


Love; lost

by theundeadsiren (rhoen)



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-18 02:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4688324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/theundeadsiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Growing up means moving on and letting some things go, no matter how painful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love; lost

**Author's Note:**

> This fit in in the days leading up to Rick leaving for the army. It's not very good, I know, I'm sorry.
> 
> Un-beta'd, of course.

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Thank you for respecting my wishes.

* * *

 

 

Rick used to lie there at night with his headphones on, music as loud as he dared, letting the rhythm and the words wash through him and tug at his heart, breaking against it and making him ache almost unbearably with longing. Buried under his covers, he would imagine that the warm air was shared; that he wasn’t alone. A warm, supple body would press close to his, arms wrapping sensually around him as soft lips murmuring adorations before they found his own and kissed him passionately, unable to pull away from what they both felt. It made Rick’s heart ache to imagine the sweet words he might hear: the declarations of love, the admission of need, and the desperation to belong to one another. He’d longed for them with every fibre of his being. As his fingers brushed over the diskman, remembering, he supposed he still did. The longing stirred strongly, even after all this time, although with it came a blackening sadness that brought no light the naïve hope teenage love had once given.

 _This is growing up_ , he thought, automatically finding and slowly pushing at the catch on the lid so it lifted, revealing the CD still in place. The scrawling handwriting across it was familiar, and the text blurred as tears stung at Rick’s eyes. He didn’t even try to blink them away.

 _This is what love means_.

He felt awful. There was nothing but despairing emptiness left. A warm tear splashed against his hand, and he watched the splintered vision of soft skin and shining silver. He was slowly cutting away the best part of himself, piece by piece. Every childish instinct in him was screaming at him to cling onto it, to retain just one part of this love, but he couldn’t. He had to grow up; he had to let go. He couldn’t look back, as much as he so desperately wanted to.

Rick felt devoid of life. Slowly, he went back to his task, leaving the diskman where it lay. He was going through the motions, preparing his bags and carefully packing away the things he wouldn’t be taking, boxing them up or placing them neatly in drawers. It felt like a goodbye; a funeral for his youth. Outside the sun might be shining strongly, but the colour was seeping out of Rick’s world with each step he took towards what had to be done.

Growing up was the most awful thing Rick had ever endured.

Slipping into the role of optimistic son when it was time to join his parents for dinner several hours later, Rick wondered if every adult was like this – a fragile mask on the outside, dark tormenting pain and loss on the inside. Did they all struggle, as he did, to keep the visage in place when inside they felt like they were shattering into a thousand tiny pieces? How many of them had sat as he’d done, staring at a box that held their most treasured memories, struggling to place the lid on and seal it away for what sense said had to be forever?

Rick had cried again at that point, staring down at the parts that made up the best thing he’d known in his eighteen years of existence. The words had almost burnt his tongue, so close to being let free, but if he uttered them he knew he’d truly fall to pieces. He wasn’t that strong. With shaking hands and breaking heart, he’d set the lid in place and carried the box to the cupboard, stowing it safely on the shelf behind a stack of books.

Later, when Rick was done, the diskman still sat on his pillow. A midsummer sunset of red bled across the sky, and in the fading light Rick turned the lamp on. His fingers reaching for the CD player as he sat on the bed, the silver glinting in the artificial light, and he felt the edge dented where he’d once carelessly dropped it. Carefully, he set it aside, placing it on the bedside table as he prepared for bed.

When sleep didn’t come as Rick so desperately wanted it to, he found himself reaching out, fingers closing on cool metal. He was hurting. Tomorrow, and what it brought, was inevitable, and nothing could halt it, but he had this last chance to give in, to be lost in what he felt before he had to shut it away forever. One last chance to say goodbye to the love he felt.

It didn’t matter how well he knew all the songs by now – when Rick hid himself beneath the covers and put his headphones in, hitting play, each note and every word brought fresh pain. Rick let it tear through him, pain and love welling up inside him. It started spilling out, in tears and soft sobs he had to smother, burying his face tightly into the pillow. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to leave this part of himself behind. He cried and cried until he was spent and only dull pain lingering, his body exhausted with the effort of everything he felt. With every beat of his heart he could feel a freshly formed wound he knew he’d always carry. He had to leave his childhood behind, but doing so had permanently marked him.

The battery eventually ran out, the music suddenly shutting off and making Rick give a pathetic whimper at the loss. The silence was crushing. He distantly knew he should at least remove the earphones, but he was too exhausted to care.

He just lay there, his last memory of youth a painful one of tearstained pillows, loneliness, and heartbreak.


End file.
